(Last night)
Luna took a step, beckoning her sister to follow.
The way was a river of stars, and the distance - for all the meaning that word had there - was composed of nebulous colors and glinting lights.
Celestia tentatively stepped onto the star-road, seeing to the sides in hopes of seeing a comet or something that would distract her from the sometimes-empty places her hooves were standing on.
In her defense, she was still half-asleep because she had once again just popped every duplicate at once and had twenty different petitions, four court cases, and at least two novels land in her mind at once.
Still, sleep had never been more restful since her sister had been returned to her side. Even now, Luna was laying down next to her back in the waking world, and that alone comforted her.
Luna took out the mirrored scroll - that is, her own memories of having it - and held it in front of her as if a portable window to see what she intended to see.
“You choose what you want to see.” Luna said, holding the mirror towards her. “And I choose to see the way to Typhon’s mind.”
She started cantering forward despite holding a completely-blackened scroll, startling Celestia, who trotted slightly more hurriedly to be side to side.
“I do not think that was the intended meaning, sister.” Celestia commented, making Luna chuckle.
“I have said the same to him on occasion.” She replied, and the scroll presented a scene upon its surface.
”While We appreciate the containment of the flood, that was not the intended meaning of Our call to ‘freeze’.” The projected Luna said to a younger Typhon.
”Words, semantics, and loose definitions are my tools, Luna.” He answered, breaking off a spike from the frozen wave that held back the rest of the river that had suddenly risen to three times its usual flow from a freak storm blown in from the sea. ”Check this out - transmutation, so now it’s grape juice. Ta-da! Instant popsicle!”
He had slapped it with a glove that appeared on his hand as quickly as it vanished, making a light and leaving the icicle purple in color.
“It was a refreshing treat, to be sure.” Luna awkwardly commented as the scroll returned to a black, featureless ‘map’.
“That was why you were so glad when you received an ice-box full of them after your first day back.” Celestia was surprised by another realization. “And he probably had them sent in the first place.”
“I think there is something here.” Luna said, approaching a vaporous bubble giving off a flowery scent. “It is not what we are looking for, but it is in the way.”
The sisters entered, only to see the human form of Kat Shifter, planting flowers along a pony - a pegasus mare. They were ‘far’, however, so whatever the human had said that made the mare laugh was lost to the ‘distance’. The world around them blurred, Kat remaining on her knees with a spade in her hand - once everything focused again, they were in front of the small cottage belonging to Fluttershy, with the usually shy pony happily chatting as she lowered a few seeds into the upturned earth.
Then everything started to fade to nothing - Fluttershy faster than the scenery, leaving the human alone on her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Celestia moved closer, but before she could offer words of comfort, or just be there, they, too, faded back into the ever-changing realm of dreams.
Luna wordlessly drapped a wing over her sister.
“Everyone always has a chance at happiness.” Celestia said resolutely. “She does not have to sit in the dark forever.”
“Sister, do remember that the Dark is much more forgiving, allowing us our weaknesses and tears.” Luna held her sister tightly as the scroll turned into a scene of Celestia blowing out a candle, leaving her in the darkness of night to cry for her lost sister.
“I know, I just-” She was interrupted by Luna nudging her chin with her muzzle, leaving the two of them in the silence of the land between dreams.
They continued like that, Luna using her own nature and bond with Celestia to hide her, as her Light might attract unwanted attention. Celestia, for her part, allowed herself to be guided, blanking her own mind with the training she had gained in magic, while trying to ambush Typhon, and while relaxing after a stressful day dealing with unpleasant petitioners.
Anything looking for them would have to run into them by chance, and so they were not putting Typhon himself at risk.
“Maybe if I were to think of the familiars it would help bridge us closer.” Luna said, and the scroll once more changed into a screen.
“Oh, Kind Fluttershy, it is lovely!” The Luna from the past spoke with the shy mare, who was cradling a pink spider the size of a rugby ball.
”Isn’t he a cutie?” She responded, snuggling the arachnid and nuzzling him fondly. ”He came out of one of those papers.”
The representation of Fluttershy pointed at something beyond the reach of the screen, causing it to pan to the right and focus on a small stack of papers.
”Ah, these are Typhon’s spells.” Past Luna clarified, holding one in front of her. ”The ways he mixes runic languages and makes them mingle are interesting, but I never had the chance to examine one up close like this.”
”Yes; he said I could have some, that I would like them.” Fluttershy replied as she snuggled what Celestia thought was a huge pink monstrosity that she would never want to see Live.
”Hmm… I cannot read this - too many different runes.” The Luna from the memory pursed her lips. ”I understand small parts that speak of ‘bring the spirit-heart into the world’, ‘refer to the scroll of the body’ and what is either ‘anchor to the honorable tag’ or ‘centered on the divinely-respected note’... runes are nuanced like such.”
”What do you do, little one?” Fluttershy asked the spider with a motherly tone, making Celestia shudder and grimace - she thanked she was merely looking at a memory, and not actually there.
The spider spat - spat! - a pink wad at the door, which made it become wrapped in pink silk all over, and likely glued it shut.
Celestia was really glad she was not there.
”Remarkable.” Of course Luna would think that - she had managed to give huge tarantulas their own section of the Royal Gardens! Those ‘Goths’ that kept Luna company during the night… Celestia would never understand them.
“Those spells are more like citations - footnotes calling for a bookmarked place in another document.” Luna added. “They direct the magic to the true spell elsewhere, then retrieve it, apparently without regard to distance.”
Celestia was just grateful she didn’t have to look at the huge spider any more.
They walked some more, Luna directing through the strange whims of her apparently-blank map.
They came across several black… things - according to Luna, those were objects exiled from their world into the Void (Celestia was slightly worried that they had managed to cross over to there without her noticing). However, the Void does not play by the usual rules - in regular ‘space’, the odds of something with the size of the black spheres hitting something at all were minimal; something of importance, even fewer… something that might be in actual, direct danger from the exiled artifact? Infinitesimal…
But the Void has no rules, and probability was no different.
After dodging a sphere that whispered ‘crystals’ or somesuch, things became much quieter, making it easier for Celestia to keep herself from ‘shining’.
Sometimes, she could have sworn they were doubling back…
Still, no rules - so no rule saying that tracing back your steps will actually lead back where you started.
“Is there something more that could get us closer to wherever, whenever he hides his mind?” Celestia whispered; having lost track of time had always bothered her more than her sister.
“I think he once spoke of crafting golems…”
The scroll’s blackness twisted.
*****
It was never focused much.
Move.
Movement.
Nothing else had much importance, or place; just movement for the sake of movement. It did not think to think of ‘place’, actually. Just Space, which was filled with movement, but with movement… moving… there was always space to fill, because movement lacked where it had moved from.
That was OK, because there was still movement.
Just movement.
Then there was ‘other’.
Other movement. Movement not It, but movement all the same.
It moved with that other movement, and attention was brought to other things. The movement was many things - speed, direction - that were identified. Distance, that which made the not-It movement not-It - Separate! Another concept. Coordination - one moved in one ‘way’ while the other in a different one, maybe with the same ‘speed’, maybe not; after speed, came ‘timing’ and after ‘timing’ came ‘rhythm’.
Dance.
The space was filled with dance, and movements gained meaning.
Then the other stopped.
It was moving around Other, having learned of distance, to measure the size of Other.
This other movement was so much more than It. And it gave It a choice: Move away, dance through the space with all It had gained already, or become more like Other.
Other was not yet clear, but It could feel Other. Other taught. Movement not of body, but information - another new thing. There was communication, words, but not ‘voice’, not yet…the little shaking of space was ‘noise’, and it was a form of movement - sometimes noise had meaning, but other times it did not.
Confusing, but Other was smart, and patient - another thing! How could Other resist moving for so long? How could Other decide to repeat the same movements over and over just to help It understand them? Other was smart, and Other had words - many, many words with meanings.
‘Noise’ became ‘sound’, and sound could become ‘music’ using rhythm. Music moved something besides space, just like dancing did; besides It or space, that was. It was shaken, deep ‘inside’ - the shaking was felt, but not felt.
Time was a thing. Time did not ‘wait’ like Other did; Time waited for nothing, making It think that maybe Time was not able to wait. Other said Other could make Time wait for Other, but there was ‘risk’. Danger, risk, so opposite to that shaking that came from music and dance that it was hard to comprehend.
Still, appreciation of Time was learned.
There was movement within Other. A beat with a very special rhythm.
Th-thump. Th-thump. Th-thump.
Time became important, as Time was the measure of the beat. This beat was part of Other, and it was important to Other, and... and Other was important to It, so Time was important. If the beat was fast it meant one thing; slow meant another thing - but too fast or too slow was a problem, as the movement would be all wrong for the space within Other.
There was another choice; go away with the knowledge already gained, or get even closer to Other.
After the choice, Other taught more difficult things. Light, Darkness, things so much, much more difficult. Color became something, and it was fascinating. Color was Light that moved in a specific way, and colors could be moved, then placed, so that they would cause that ‘shaking’ inside; colors could move, too, and with colors and dance and music Other and others like Other could make magnificent things.
Color and Light and Dark became ‘Picture’; moving pictures became ‘Animated’.
Other taught affection - something It could now understand, because It held Affection for Other, and now could tell what the shaking was. The lessons that came later sometimes helped understand the lessons that came earlier. Other cared for It - Other cared for a lot of things.
The inner-shaking from music and dance became Emotion, Fun. Fun was great! It wanted more emotion.
It wanted to become more like Other, because Other made It more than something that just moved. Other cared for a lot of things, and It wanted to know those things, maybe even care for them as It was cared for.
Other gave 'voice'.
"I want to learn."
"You have to change."
"All these wonders you teach; what change would that be?"
"You need to come with me."
"What would happen to me?"
"You would become something amazing. You would become part of a World."
It agreed.
Mind. Heart. Knowledge... that and more was given.
-----
She opened her eyes for the very first time, coming face-to-face with Typhon.
"Hello. Your name is Irida." She heard, and she knew; it was written in her as was his name.
I-ri-da… colors being called forth in a name.
"Hi, Typhon." That, too, was written. Her voice was a ‘melody’, composed by being written first, then turned into a pattern, then that pattern engraved in her.
It was written on the things that made her- in the things that made her; she was made of things! Lots of little things, with some of those telling the others how to make her, and told her how to make herself do things. She was made of the things, and she told the things what to do - some things they did on their own, because it was easier that way. Numbers, the things she was seeing! So much to do! Where to start?
"Let me show you your home."
'Home'... it was something special; being in a home, and being accepted as part of that home, was...
There was a response - a procedure, almost.
"I'm home."
“Welcome home.”
*****
“Alright, that’s enough of that.” A familiar voice, if slightly deeper, said as the scroll was lowered and taken from the sisters by a gloved hand.
“Typhon?” They both asked, turning to the human.
He was wearing a radically-different kind of glasses, as the current pair was round, smaller, orange - almost yellow - and covered the sides in such a way there was no angle in which his eyes could be seen; his hair was longer (huh, it was a very open wave, not completely straight, Celestia noted) and one of his bangs covered part of his face; he was wearing a scarlet Ulster coat with the cape not quite reaching the elbows, while he wore a suit of a deep, dark grey underneath with a large red cravat - of the bow variety - and black boots; crowning his head - and they somehow thought it was appropriate to describe it as such - was a wide-brimmed hat of the same color as the overcoat, a center dent and with white bands instead of a more-traditional ribbon.
“No, I’m Carmen Sandiego! Guess where I am!” He grinned, revealing that his canines were abnormally-long for some reason.
He patted his cheeks sharply, as if trying to rid himself from sleep.
“Sorry, sorry. Couldn’t resist - I’m just a fragment, you know? One of the myriad Facets that comprise the whole, see?” He relaxed, inhaling deeply to calm down.
“What do you represent, then?” Celestia asked with trepidation - she was dealing with a rather-uncomfortable variant of someone that took her by surprise often, so it was easy to guess why.
“I am his desire to take enthusiastic walks through the woods.” He happily replied, with a grin to match.
“And find somepony to sink your teeth into, I take it.” Luna deadpanned.
“Very enthusiastic walks.” He responded, and started chuckling for a moment, before breaking into roaring laughter, unsettling Celestia even more, and making Luna feel awkward.
“I cannot believe I got to say that one!” He guffawed. “I mean, I even dress the part!”
He abruptly put a hand over his mouth, forcing back his laughs - even if he had to choke on them for a bit.
He coughed - politely - into his hand, and once more tried calming himself through a breathing exercise.
“I apologize; I am, as you could have guessed had you recognized the reference in my wardrobe choice, Typhon’s darkest Facet.” He made a grand, sweeping bow and scrape, taking off his hat and placing it over his heart. “Bloodlust, at your service.”
“Dark- I see.” Luna muttered under her breath. “It does make sense.”
“Doesn’t it?” He smiled more gently, and offered his arm to the princess he had the closest; Luna. “May I escort you so that you don’t reveal memories unnecessarily?”
“How would we walk like that?” Celestia asked with a raised brow; she recognized the gesture, but it was an awkward one for a quadruped.
“You don’t; it was a distraction.” He chuckled again and turned around, grabbed at something like he would a doorknob, and twisted.
They walked out of was apparently a supply closet, if the label on the door was to be believed; Celestia thought it wasn’t.
The place was, contrary to expectations, an attic with large windows that let in large amounts of sunlight. It was full of boxes with labels such as ‘Crystal-Floater airship: Eureka - pronounced eu-RE-ka, not jui-REE-ka-’, and ‘Angel-class, Defense-intensive, (Remember to pick a name) (Alexis, Mimi, Gwendolyn, Rachel) (Remember to get the sisters’ help for this one)’.
“So! What can I do for you?” Bloodlust asked, twirling in place and letting himself fall backwards - a high chair rose from the ground to intercept him, however. He crossed his legs as he slouched sideways, propping himself up with his elbow.
“You are awfully cordial for someone that threatened to cut down a god and overshadowed the spirit of a demonic sword.” Celestia pointed out, feeling somewhat confused given that it was odd even by his standards.
“I am still me; I just loathe to hurt people, but there is only so much one can take, you know?” He shrugged. “Still, I do not walk too far away from Mercy... it’s just that I enjoy breaking my enemies thoroughly, pushing them to the edge both physically and mentally, breaking apart their worldview piece…by…piece…”
He stopped to inhale as if savoring some phantom scent, and his throaty chuckles of satisfaction made the princesses remember how much of a threat he could have chosen to be.
“Still, if they stop being a threat, then my work is done and I pass them over to Mercy and Kindness. They build them back up.” He turned to the side, using the throne-like chair’s armrests for his legs and back. “My job is looking for the fatal lapses in concentration and defense, not babysitting the stuff I beat.”
“We just wanted to be sure everything was stable, mentally…” Celestia mentioned. “It is hard to be sure when you are like, well, like that.”
“You want stable? Fine, you got it.” He snapped his fingers, and then both sisters found themselves on a cloud, overseeing a forest; in the distance, they could see a mountain with some structures on it not unlike Canterlot, but more fortified.
Opposite to the mountain - well, there was Typhon, the complete one if his choice of apparel was any indication; behind him, however, was an impossibly-large tree with several accesses built into its trunk, and likely inhabited, if the tiny dots flying in and out were any indication. Large forests lay at the tree’s base, some on mountains, some with tiny structures poking through their canopies, rivers and lakes crossing and dotting the green sprawls, with the occasional snowy area thrown in for good measure.
To one side, ’South’, something told them, mountains were much more common - although none as tall as the mountain that that ‘something’ told them lied at the ‘center’. Forests gave way to jungles, then hotter and hotter climates, until ‘South’ became desertic and volcanic areas. Even then, there were signs of life.
To what could only be ‘North’, snowy areas became more frequent, until the climate, too, changed back into tropical expanses of nature…side-to-side with glaciers and polar areas. The land opened into a sea without any visible end, with islands of all imaginable varieties and sizes on it. Neither sister had any doubts about finding inhabitable structures there, given that it looked like there were massive ships both upon the water and the skies... and they were reasonably sure that some of those islands were moving.
Cloud structures were ubiquitous, although most of the ones they could see - and largest and most elaborate - were close to the central spire-like mountain.
“Hey there.” Typhon waved at them. “Sorry for that, but making golems is our little personal recipe, and I’d like to keep it like that for a little while longer.”
“Like that box that said ‘Familiar for Luna’?” The very intended addressee asked.
“Kinda - look, when I left Earth, we didn’t even have the tools necessary to create the tools required to create nanotechnology; real tiny factories that assembled the required microscopic product. Then again, magic hadn’t progressed that far, either... so I did as I am prone to doing, and cheated. I went to 'more advanced' worlds, I also had computers to make the calculations, and magic to assemble the golems - you can see why I want to keep that secret.”
“While having a golem crafter playing around with the building blocks of life is just one more in a long list of concerns, the current one seems more relevant.” Celestia gestured with a wing towards the tree - a large cluster of dots more specifically. “I question the wisdom of splintering your mind and soul in so many fragments.”
“What, those?” Typhon turned around, even though he did not need it. “Nah, those are... Tulpas and spirits and yokai and all sorts of crazy things.”
“Wait, is this not your mind then?” Luna asked in bewilderment - she had come across complex mindscapes, so this was not that much of a surprise, but then-
“It is! It is; those are mostly... representations of friends and spirits I’ve contracted and such.” He rolled his shoulders. “I’ve worked with many of them, after all; both here and inside the Void.”
“Mostly?” But of course the princesses were perceptive enough to notice!
“It’s what we do.” He shrugged. “We let people in - we trust them. My mind just... has a different level of malleability, that’s all.”
“And is it still sound?” Luna asked, with a heart-warming amount of concern, it should be noted.
“Of course! Why wouldn’t it be?”
“There were reports of strange storms deeper into the Badlands.” Celestia stated. “Lightning doesn’t strike in quite that way outside of some of the Anomalies.”
“I’m being compared to wild, wild magic and space-time distortions now? I’m flattered.” He spoke with a kind of half-sincere, half-mocking cheer that reminded the sisters way too much of Discord to be entirely comfortable. “I was training, girls; that’s going to be the site for my all-out with the Kings, and I need to make sure everything is kept contained.”
“And you are certain nothing is troubling you?” Luna asked.
“Not really - if anything, I’m much better than both of you.” He shot back in reply, making them blink.
“What?” Celestia grimaced; that had sounded a lot less intelligent than she wanted to appear.
“Excuse me, but We do not have representations of our inner darkness proclaiming they are our desire to exercise.” Luna deadpanned.
“And that is why you are bored all the time.” Typhon tuted and shook his head. “But now, seriously; this is nothing to be worried about.”
"We would like more than simply your word." Celestia's deadpan expression simply reinforced what Typhon already had guessed.
"Well, how about going through the experience?" He asked, pulling a sword out of nowhere - the one with the brush on its hilt, the same he was holding when he had 'died', they noted.
"And what would said 'experience' entail?" Luna asked, carefully watching how he reversed the sword, holding it by its scabbard.
"Why, the trials of character I went through, of course." He spoke as he passed the brush over the cloud; stone greeted their eyes where the brushstrokes passed, and then, while they were focused on that drawing, it expanded to cover everything around them.
The scene was that of a large cave, every stalagmite, wall, and rock looking as if it had been painted into existence like his familiars did.
"Please, sit down, let's open our chakras." He plopped down on the ground, legs crossed and hands resting upon his knees.
"I've heard about them." Celestia mumbled to herself as she sat on her haunches. She 'removed' her regal attire, which, being simply a mental projection of herself, merely involved thinking about it.
"I remember hearing about them, as well." Luna replied, more for her own ears than anything, but following Celestia's example. "Were they not supposed to be difficult to open?"
"Ah, that is the beauty of living in our world, and for so long, as well. Here, take this." Typhon smiled as he offered them a pair of bowls with something... weird in them. "You have been through everything already - you need simply to acknowledge it and to realize it. Besides, ours is a world of fantasy; internal conflict can be externally-represented and dealt with much faster than in the world of my birth, as magic is the... semi-tangible expression of our spirits - at the least, you can feel it and interact with it, as opposed to Earth, where it can and has taken people an entire lifetime to find the kind of self-realization and fulfillment that foals go through when they find their cutie marks."
"If they find it at all, you mean." Celestia said as she took her own bowl.
"Bingo."
Luna took a mouthful from the bowl, only to spit it back out the next moment.
"It tastes like pureed bananas with onions!" She exclaimed, making Celestia take a tentative taste only to spit it back out as her sister had done.
"Because that's what it has!" He cheerfully gulped down from his own bowl, then upended it to show it had been drained. "Yum yum!"
"You did this yourself, right?"
"Of course."
"So there's no chance you'll give us anything else until we're done." That was a statement, not a question.
"None whatsoever."
"Fine."
"We'll start with the Earth chakra; it's located at the bottom of the spine... well, for ponies would be below the dock, I guess." He rubbed the back of his head. "It has to do with survival instinct, mental stability, sense of security, and it's blocked by fear."
Both of them flinched slightly.
"What is it that you fear? This is the realm of mind and spirit; let them show themselves clearly before your eyes."
Luna's seat broken and empty, vacant. Twilight/ /Sparkle lying down on the cold stone floor, lifelessly, body/ /broken and limp between her hooves, the task having been too much for the young/ /mare. The only living soul in a desolation of eternal starlight.
"Remember, this might be your mind, but it is not real. You are worried about the survival of others, over your own; that is proof of your love towards them, but you need to have more faith. Have faith, both in yourselves, and in their own abilities; Twilight Sparkle is an exceptional pony, and you need to let go of that fear. Acknowledge it, but do not let fear cloud your mind and choke down your magic."
Celestia wiped away the tears on her eyes, taking a calming breath; opening her eyes, she was greeted with the image of Twilight, smiling up at her and wearing her Element. Blinking, even that vision disappeared, but Luna remained at her side, as she had been since that day.
Luna was not alone, nor consumed by the forces she herself had invited in her grief. Celestia was beside her, and that would not change without either sister fighting it.
After Typhon drew on the floor, they saw water through the window of 'ink'. They sat on a rock by a riverbed, with a large waterfall to their left, and the ocean further to the right.
"Next is water, at the sacrum; it deals with relationships, basic emotional needs, and pleasure; it governs reproduction, creativity, joy, and enthusiasm. It's blocked by guilt... what do you blame yourselves for?"
"I... I nearly wiped away the life of the world." Luna whispered.
"I've hurt so many po- people; you included." Celestia said. "I-I banished my own sister, without thinking-"
"There, there. All that is in the past - learn from it, but do not allow it to poison your mind. Celestia, while there truly were other options, all of them were much riskier, both to you, other ponies, and even Luna herself; you might have had problems, but you truly wish for the betterment of everyone, without regard as to how they have hurt you or could hurt you - that is something that is very rare, and I want to extend that same courtesy to you, not to mention that that involved my own failings which I have to correct. Luna, while that was one of the possible outcomes, you didn't; you didn't, and that is what matters; you were in pain, alone, lost, and confused, but if you are to truly learn from it, help your sister, and become the princess you were - and are meant to be, then you need to forgive yourself."
Luna smiled and sighed at the same time. That was not too different from what she had been told over and over by both her sister, and Twilight and company - the ponies most in direct danger from her weakness and delusion.
Celestia wondered what he meant, or how he intended to correct his own failings.
Next, they were in the middle of a vast, rocky plain, with columns of steam rising from cracks and holes on the ground.
"Fire, sitting around the level of the stomach. This is the transition from simple and base emotion to more complex ones; willpower, personal power, expansiveness, and all matters of growth. It's blocked by shame - tell me, when did you disappoint yourselves?"
"When I allowed myself to turn into Nightmare Moon. I lost sight of the ponies that loved me and needed me in my jealousy and pain."
"When I found out just how much troubles I caused because I didn't allow myself to admit my mistakes. Luna paid for them, and you yourself have seen...-"
"You can't grow if you deny parts of yourself; to change, you need to recognize that which you are trying to change. Luna, it is not that simple; you endured many years of loneliness, and the Nightmares did everything to make things worse - the average person is ill-prepared both mentally and emotionally to endure such abuse, let alone for so long, and even at your darkest all you desired was love. Celestia, you were aware on some level, because you surrounded yourself with ponies that would give you honest advice, and you have already started with the process of healing just as Luna has."
"I do feel... lighter." Luna commented. "Ever since I visited Ponyville the second time, I truly felt... accepted."
They were now in the middle of the clouds. Each cloud was a collection of brushstrokes like wisps, yet with that thick, inky outline around it and each curve that was there only if you looked at it tangentially.
"The chakra of air, residing in the middle of the chest... needless to say, it's easy to see when something is wrong with this one in a pegasus or Gryphon. It involves complex emotions, compassion, tenderness, rejection,well-being... It governs love; unconditional love for both yourself and others, passion, devotion... Did you know that, the first time I looked at you - after having awakened my senses, that is - it actually hurt a little?"
Celestia blinked.
"Really?"
"You are one like few others. Others? They do not bother to build up Equestria according to the Elements - they find it easier to be dishonest, to make terrible things then just sweep them under the rug, all for the sake of the 'greater good' - yes, I do remember warning you against that, but even so... would it be in your character to exile the Pookas because it was easier than keeping them as a part of Equestria?"
Celestia made a face like she had been doused in ice water, and Luna briefly tensed.
"There you are. You take the higher road, because you love the country more than you want to take the easy way out; after all, if the roots are rotten, how will the tree stand, let alone grow?"
Typhon, producing another pair of bowls, gave them away.
Both ponies simply drained them in silence.
"This is more for your sake, Luna, but Celestia should take note regardless. This is blocked by pain. Remember, however, love. Luna, your sister loves you dearly, even if she forgot to remind you of this; you have plenty of people who love you, and the love of those who have passed lives on within you, becoming new love and new friendships. The pain of loss should not be allowed to distract you from finding love."
Celestia wrapped a wing around her little sister, cooing soothingly as she sniffled.
"I am, myself, not letting my own pain blind me. I have, just recently, found out that my plans already succeeded - I need merely find the way."
"I remember..." Celestia said, making memory. "You said Starswirl did not truly die..."
"I need to find out how is that possible, but until I do, we cannot even meet - if a paradox were to happen... well, the least invasive 'corrective' measure would be for the timeline to erase whatever caused the paradox; the most drastic would be eliminating the whole divergence, taking everyone living in it with it, then trying again in a duplicate without said divergence."
"I have mixed feelings."
"I promised, Celestia." He twirled his brush, making the scene shatter and turn into the three of them in the middle of a mountain road, a cliff on the other side of the sharp drop.
Typhon inhaled.
"Sound chakra; located in the throat. It's communication, truth, growth through expression... governing fluent thought, independence, and a sense of security." He paused, feeling at his own throat for a moment. "It's blocked by lies - the ones we tell ourselves."
"I... we both have been there." Celestia breathed out, ears flat against her head.
"In a sense, Luna went at it strangely." Typhon said as he waved a hand. "She felt alone, yes, and did not acknowledge the need for balance - even though that was more the work of the Nightmares than hers - but she never once denied her nature, or her needs and desires. Her problem was of a different nature. You need each other, and the world needs both of you; we are beings of balance, your highnesses, and both of you make the balance that was missing in the ponies for the past thousand years."
"Is... is that the reason the nobles did not..."
"Give you two as much trouble as they could have? Most likely." Typhon nodded. "Even back then, when things were at their worst and the echos of Sombra's magic still roamed the leylines of Equestria, your absence made quite the waves, Luna; ponies did not feel safe at night, even in their own homes, and rest was not as invigorating. This was fixed almost miraculously when you came back - there is a reason half the day is night, after all. We did what we could, of course, but your horseshoes are too large to fit just like that, even if you were not aware of it, Luna."
With another twirl, the three of them were inside a large hall, with the light of dawn pouring in from large windows. It was plain and unadorned, but it just emphasized the sheer volume of the place, and the light coming in and bouncing from the clouds gave it its own ambience.
"The sixth is the chakra of light, located in the middle of the forehead. It deals with discernment, balancing of the selves, and trusting inner guidance. Its visual consciousness, and clarity on an intuitive level. It's blocked by illusion... Pinkie is actually an expert on this one."
"Oh?"
"Really. See, one of the biggest illusions in this, and many other worlds is that of separation."
*****
(Canterlot, night, North Star's room)
The unicorn who the room belonged to was writing in her diary, having received yet-another letter from Pinkie.
That mare had given her a lot to think about, even back them. It had been, what, five seconds? Ten at most. Ten seconds of contact, and a childish song to go with the scandalous act, but it was enough to change everything.
Speaking to her was even... not worse, per se - more different?
'In her letter, she speaks of how she had always felt like she did - amidst some rambling in strange tangents - but it was not until she met Typhon that she could put words to the feeling.'
She dipped her quill, and allowed her eyes to roam back to the letter. She then kept writing.
'Separation is an illusion; earth ponies, unicorns, pegasi - we are all ponies. Even the nations, or the races, we are one world. A smile is a smile, and she does not care about the "what" or "who"; we are all connected, and if I hurt, that hurts her, too.'
The more she talked to the living sugar rush that was Pinkie, the more she felt... silly... for distancing herself like so from her fellow ponies just because of their economic status. Spike, the young dragon that followed Twilight Sparkle everywhere, was of a similar mentality - perhaps from that childhood sincerity most ponies have but forget once they 'mature' - and made friends both with Ditzianna and Applejack, the farmer mare from the Gala.
And he could go and Speak to Hoity-Toity just like that, with the same ease...
*****
(Elsewhere)
"One has to be careful with this one. Being too open without a clear goal in mind can lead you to waste energy thinking about things that don't matter, thus distracting you from the present. Pinkie has some trouble with tangents, even as she throws around impressive feats as, literally, party favors."
"It's also associated with seeing the future." Celestia commented with a dainty eyebrow lifted high.
"Well, Time and Control are illusions at times. Time is the reference frame, and control... well, all you can truly control are your choices - the effect those choices have on others and your surroundings, well, that is something we have to learn ourselves." Typhon fingered the hilt of the sword in contemplation. "But yes, I can 'see' things, some of which have not yet happened."
"Figures."
"I can see, sometimes, the direction of things; I cannot see in a direction I do not understand, however, and some choices - both of others and myself - that I do not understand are similarly obscured on occasion. I can see and read attacks, even if I sometimes do not understand why I am getting attacked, for example."
"So... if you did not understand what was happening..." Celestia spoke softly, although with much more confidence that the previous times the topic had turned to- "That day; you didn't know what was happening, or how it was possible, didn't you?"
"A complete blank, yes. To be fair, I knew how I could do something about it, but then again, that involved creating a stable loop, which brings us back to the part where I cannot see a direction I do not understand."
"Is that the reason Pinkie..."
"Pinkie is an enigma wrapped in a mystery, sprinkled with comedy and baked in the oven of cartoon logic. I. Don't. Know. Seriously, there are dozens of completely-plausible, equally-probable explanations: She's got powers from a construct like I do, or she's been touched by fate, or simply being that good with earth-pony magic." Typhon shrugged, leaning on his sword.
"So, it's still a mystery." Luna tilted her head.
"Mh hmm."
Then they were on a flat, circular rock. Stairs spiraled down from it, until an uniform cover of clouds swallowed them. Both the sun and the moon were in the sky, which was midmorning in one half, and starry night in the other.
" The last one is at the crown of the head, or 'above' it. It's the one that has to do with Universal consciousness and unity in mental action, and 'Being', emotionally-speaking. It connects us with the cosmos like the Font connects you with Magic. It's blocked by earthly wants, which many... misinterpret, and makes this one one of the hardest to open."
"I was wondering about that, given that the first one is about bodily preservation, the second is pleasure... but then again, 'Love' isn't exactly 'earthly'." Luna mused out loud.
"Thank you!" Typhon raised his arms to his sides, then let them fall against his body. "You've just earned a diploma on the matter. I'll sent it to you on the mail."
"I take it you had a speech prepared?" Celestia smirked.
"Not really; I had a scene of a movie in which a little green man with strange speech patterns said how we are 'luminous beings' instead of just sacks of flesh, nothing too fancy." Typhon sat down on a familiar stone bed that rose from the floor to meet him on his way down. "It has to do a little bit about this, and how I can fly now."
"That's- that's the stone slab with your symbol on it!" Celestia gasped. "I just thought it was- I don't know, a meeting place!"
"See, I used to have two bodies - my 'normal' body, and a 'dreamself', which was originally only supposed to be used while I... well, dreamed." He said, then pointed to the side.
Another 'him' appeared, wearing golden-and-purple clothes with the same crescent moon Prosperity's dress had. Typhon himself was wearing a simple black shirt, green jacket, denim pants, and red tennis shoes.
"Dreamselves awaken fully after the dreamer faces something they refuse to acknowledge about either themselves or their surroundings. Normally this is harder for teens, but I was in my twenties... then got age-regressed." Typhon shrugged, then his other self started talking. "Eh, I started dreaming lucidly, which made things get strange. Dreamselves are precisely like dreams - unconcerned by earthly things, and driven mostly by the subconscious. I could make my regular body nearly-weightless, either by my powers or some weird mechanic of reality... still, it wasn't until I died that I became this."
Typhon changed back into the blue clothes he wore so often nowadays, while the princesses stared at him blankly.
"You died?" Luna asked.
"My 'real' self, upon this bed. It's a special mechanic to grant the 'user' the totality of their power - a real self doesn't have the degree of control of one of 'me'. It also grants me conditional immortality."
"Heroic or Just." Celestia muttered.
"Exactly." He nodded. "I became 'one', gained conscious use of what unconscious powers I hadn't already, and got boosted on all my abilities. You can draw the obvious parallel, I'm sure."
"That was the event? The day your body escaped the stone..." Celestia grew quiet, but Typhon threw an arm around her.
"Don't be like that - let me tell you something: The original, intended way was for the user to give their own life, for various motives." He said. "I'm not going to let something like this stop me, you know."
"I suppose that... that your mind is as sound as it can be, given the circumstances." Luna stated with some uncertainty - not about what she had said, but about how to process everything.
"Yeah. The Nightmares want my body, but it doesn't work the way they think - it's not going to become the perfect host or anything, and they can't replicate this. I just need to recover the Crystal Empire, then set up things, and we aren't going to be bothered by them again."
"I suppose you would want assistance?" Celestia asked with a quirked brow.
"Nope. In fact, don't send anyone; the guards already 'there' have the wrong location altogether, and Cadence should be well away from there." He crossed his arms in an exaggerated gesture, but spoke slowly and darkly. "If you send Cadence or Twilight, Sombra won't hesitate to go for the kill - this one is different from others; he knows who you would send."
Celestia swallowed, hard.
"I know it's asking a lot, but the Empire is better off without your intervention. Once things calm down again, then Cadence can reclaim her legacy. To ensure that your remember this, you are going to wake up now." He then threw some sparkling powder at their faces.
When they opened their eyes again, it was to a dark bedroom.
Yes an update.
YAY, UPDATE!
blood lust Typhon's Crimson Fucker
So, if I am reading this right, if Typhon went twisted, he may end up like Alucard from Hellsing Abridged? You know, I wouldn't mind seeing what that would do to the world if he did it once. After all, he can literally build a fleet of SR-71 Blackbirds, just to watch them fly or crash at extreme speeds, then use one as a messaging service to Canterlot from the heart of the Badlands. Because there are only so many times you can enjoy watching close to a billion dollars in research and construction go boom in a fiery spectacle.
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Ha! They tripped Typhon's Alu-card!
The Crimson Fucker. the coincidence is that i just finished hellsing ultimatum for the 3rd time before reading this.
So first TFS Alucard, then Avatar Chakras. I'm liking what you're doing here.
A visual representation of bloodlust walks.
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Except that he rarely kills, if at all. If those had been ghouls...
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Dreamselves have always been real. They merely start in the Medium, but they can get to the world of origin through some convoluted means.
Also, it was just that "Storm" is an easy word to make up pony names, and a very 'pegasus' word. I also like the idea of a pony officer that is also a ninja just appeals to me. Easier if they were changelings, too.
...
Now I can't help but picture an officer of the 'Canterlot Intelligence Agency' that is loaded with gadgets, is a changeling, and has martial arts training.
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Spoken like a true Nord.
5917426 What are you talking about their fine.
Also this is it made me realize how bad I want to see a displaced fic with Hellsing abridged Alucard as the main character.
So, your main guy there seems to be untouchable and perfect. Not only that, he obtained his perfection off-screen and he earned his epicness in the eyes of the reader by just KNOWING how to control and bring perfect peace from his enemies with a few kind words and some tea. In fact, he is so astoundingly amazing that even his Dragon adopted daughter can bring peace between changelings, ponies, and some sort of nightmare race with less then a day of work.
Ok, I think I have said what is wrong with having a hero like that before. His presence is incomprehensible. Nothing like him can exist in the real world and no one could be like him. But, like, "so what?", right? There is nothing wrong about fantasy. Maybe we can't be like him, but we can dream, right? Well, in a word, no. None of us can dream about being like him. None of us comprehend him because he has no place in reality and he isn't a metaphor for any kind of person that exists in reality. Since I can't comprehend him, I can't comprehend what it is like to be like him and I can't relate to him or understand him. I can, I suppose, comprehend the things he causes, though. He causes peace. He causes good for everyone. He causes new life to exist and be well adjusted, intelligent, and grateful. He makes a good world with loving (indirect)children. I want these things. I want some of what he has, despite not comprehending what it is like to be him.
I want his power.
But, knowing that he is a non-sense thing, I see his power as a carrot on a stick which I can never actually have. I see him as a crewel promise and I see the author of a universe containing him as a crewel guide. I see you as a liar and I have a negative, lashing reaction because I do(or did) not fully comprehend WHY I should hate this worthless image of a wonderful man you have created. I did not understand the betrayal.
However, none of that is true anymore, is it?
We followed your wonderful man for a bit. We hoped to learn. All we learned was that he was greater. However, now that you are trying to bring him down a bit,, now that you are trying to flesh him out and make him a slight bit more normal and obtainable, he isn't quite so perfect. Oh, he is still an impossible enigma warped in quasi-dream-existence and made of impossibility. However, now there is a conflict.
To say the conflict is internal is not enough. It doesn't tell us anything. Also, it is wrong. His internal conflict very clearly makes external things happen. In fact, his internal conflict seems to be mostly played out externally. There are clouds and split-mind dream-selves and clones and controlled wind and rampant magic and golems who adore him. Why, it seems to me like he is everywhere! It seems to me that his control spreads to everything! He even controls his enemies into peace! I don't know if you get why that is just plain insulting, so I will tell you. It threatens our control of ourselves! It shouldn't be possible, ideally, for someone to walk up to me and just overturn my decisions! However, I have to accept that he could do it because he does it regularly. His influence is huge and turbulent. He seems to get what he wants. He is powerful in an enviable way. He is a typhoon.
So, that is your conflict. That is what you wrote, intentionally or not. This man is an infestation. He spreads. He creates familiars. He controls your mind just as well as if he was discord. He has a tight grip on your society in a political manner through his generous gifts of magic and knowledge and power. He is the godfather mixed with gandhi and a multiprocessor AND he is VERY emotional. He is a being of such power that he brings everyone else's sense of self into question and he ISN'T wise.
Typhoon is the antagonist. He is not the bad guy, but he is the problem. I believe this is true and I believe that you have until the showdown with the kings to show him in a light that makes his good intentions and infinite power seem just a bit unsavory, or naive and chaotic and forceful, but never evil, or else your story will kind of loose it's plot lines. If that happens, you will probably lose interest and go on hiatus before you pick the pieces back up and find something to say, and I don't want that.
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You know, people are - shockingly - actually kind of decent, and some understand the consequences of power, even. Not all humans are jerks, morons, selfish, or any combination thereof. Heck, some have pretty tame flaws, or flaws that are inconsequential to the plot of a story.
Let's take a look at SBURB, ok? -Warning- Homestuck spoilers aplenty, so those that don't want them should stop reading.
What is SBURB? Not Homestuck, whose plot is centered around a series of highly-abnormal sessions. SBURB. What is it?
It's a 'game' that takes a bunch of kids in the dawn of adolescence and empowers them, tosses them into a dangerous environment, puts quests and trials-of-character in their path, and all in hopes that they mature, learn, grow, and become more or less demigods that create a new universe.
The Beforus trolls were too hung up on their personal dramas - and sustaining those dramas - to be able to actually work as a team... I mean, two of them wanted to work for the Big Bad! Outright worshipping him! Vantas was a Social Justice Warrior, and is more offensive than if he just outright ingored everyone; one of them reinvented himself to give himself all sorts of useful abilities, but failed to make himself interesting; one was almost a sociopath that wanted to be an outright sociopath; one is obsessed with being the hero of the story... Long story short; they sucked - big time. And they weren't ready for the challenges they had to face - mostly the combat ones, and they had no time to work on their character trials (and thus work out their flaws) because Lord English's influence made their session completelly unwinnable.
Enter the Alternia trolls. The Beforus trolls wanted the new session to be better prepared for the parts that stumped them, and so they would be able to win the game. LE's influence made it so that they had what they asked for, but not what they wanted. Long story short (again); these new trolls were just as bad - but they were efficient in combat, and they managed to brute-force their way into winning despite all of their flaws. Come on, Karkat didn't even awaken his dreamself until they had already killed the Black king! And he didn't even make meaningful progress as a Blood-Aspect player. They sucked, big time, but won anyways.
Look at John - he's a goof, and very silly, and a dork, and oblivious at times... his greatest flaw? He's willing to trust the trolls, even though one of them managed to get an alternate version of him killed. His second-worst flaw? His terrible taste in movies.
I think you're putting too much attention in the wrong parts, missing others, and maybe you are a little defeatist. Lighten up, not everything is that bad. People can be decent...
Oh, and there is one huge, glaring hole in his plan - I think it's pretty obvious that he's failed to take a thing or two into account.
Rather than 'perfect', though, think 'genre-savvy'. And don't skip parts, since some of what you said is flat-out wrong.
As a thought experiment, take... Superman, or Cecil from Final Fantasy 4 (Let's say around end-game), or Captain America. Put them in a different world, it doesn't matter if it is or isn't Equestria. Are they an infection if they decide that they want to help, and use their power and influence to do so? Are they perfect? The Cap' is said to be an 'old-fashioned idealist', and some 'realists' say that his ideal is impossible because it's hard - of-freaking-course it's hard! He has to deal with defeatists masquerading as realists! Being a realist is knowing there are obstacles to an ideal, being defeatist is taking a look at those obstacles and giving up! Cecil is a paladin, one that's had his trust and loyalty abused; he's made of stern stuff, though, and came out of that downwards-spiral a paragon of what Law and Order are supposed to mean. Supes, for his part, is called 'boy scout' by several people - don't you think that, if more people behaved a little more like boy scouts, things would be a little better? Far, far too many plots have revolved around Superman's iron will being overcome by the waves and waves of negativity that assault him from all sides - and it pisses me off.
Superman is supposed to be a hero! This fighter that could punch Darkseid faster than the speed of sound and take a beating that has killed him all for the sake of mankind! He's the quintessential good guy, for God's sake!
I want more of those. The problem is that a bunch of 'realists' say they don't want knights in shining armor anymore, that they want 'real' people that represent the worst parts - guess what? If there are 'worst parts', then there are 'good parts' and some 'best parts', or even simply 'actually kind of decent parts'. I'm sick of these 'realists' getting their way.
I'd keep going, but I've got stuff to do.
The reason there hasn't been an update is that my work computer is on downtime. I'm coming out of a relatively minor depression that was what prevented me from going far on many of my previous stories, as well - it's slow going, but I want to kick that out of my life so that I can go back to get all of the scenes stuck inside of my head and put them to words.
I want 'Superman', not 'Punisher'. (Yes, he's entertaining, but come on, we don't need like twenty carbon-copies of the guy).
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OH GOD
I already wrote the lower part of this post, but I realized something. There is a particular roll I often take in conversations. When someone is mad about something and there is nothing they can do about it, they fume. Since no reasonable action can be found, they will only get angrier and less rational. When I see this kind of thing happening, I will often jump in and "bite the bullet", so to speak. I will get them to direct their anger at me and, when they feel they have yelled at me enough, they will feel better. I intentionally act as a straw-man sometimes.
I realized something. If I manage to convince you that I am not guilty of the things you accused me of, all the legitimate rage that you were ranting about, with negative people bringing you and captain america down and such, will become a foot in your mouth.
If you apologize to me, you will be eating your words. Emotionally, it will be kind of like saying "No, it's alright, the negative people were right all along. I'll just go curl up in the corner."
I kind of don't want to defend myself...
...Can...Can we skip that part? Can we just explain ourselves and have a little fist-bump at the end? Can this conversation end without you associating your fan-base with the negativity you hate AND without you taking all the blame and apologizing allover yourself and without just pretending everything turned out ok?
Cause, like, that is the result I like best. I'm gonna at least try for it.
Yep.
that is a statement I agree with.
I want to make something perfectly clear; Typhoon is a great person. His flaws are small enough that chapters and chapters of your story pass by before any flaws become noticeable. He is an active hero and he really earns the rank.
Also, this
I did NOT say JACK SHIT ANYTHING about your update speed because that would be a horrendously shitty thing for me to do. If it takes you 2 years to churn out a chapter, I will show up in two years and be god damn excited about it!
I said that if you finish his fight with each of the kings before instituting any other long-term plot threads, you might loose interest for awhile. That is a prediction about what you might do after the kings fight. The kings fight has not happened yet. As such, I cannot possibly be suggesting that you are currently on some kind of hiatus. The most insulting thing you can accuse me of doing is suggesting plot points for your story. I would be very very sorry about being so intrusive or nosy, but the last time we spoke you literally asked for suggestions. The only thing I can see to apologize for is a lack of clear communication on my part. So, sorry 'bout that.
I am fairly sure I understood most of what you said, but my comprehension is null for these two paragraphs. I don't know who "he" is. I don't know what parts I mis-remembered (not skipped, that's just short of slander) or how those parts disprove my points. I don't know what plan you are referring to or from which story(homestuck or lofam?).
Nope. All three of them have exactly one body and little special skill in persuasion. It kind of looks like you don't get why I called him an infection. There have been evil kryptonians. I seem to vaguely recall stories about them becoming tyrant rulers and trying to get superman to join them. I recall that superman somehow defeated them. Assume that superman joined them. He would basically be in total control of earth. This is not an infection. Imagine that he started inflicting his will without remorse for killing. That still wouldn't be an infection. Now, imagine that brain leaches fell from the sky and took everyone's bodies over. That is an infection, or at least some kind of infestation. I am not suggesting that typhoon, because he gets a bit angry at attempted murder, should become The Punisher.
All I am saying is that he is NOT perfect. Five paragraphs into my previous post I said "but none of that is true anymore, is it?" I was referring to the idea that he was a walking ideal. He isn't. He is being developed as a slightly goofy guy who watched a bunch of tv. This means that the very sky of equestria is not imbued with the spirit of a teenage to thirty year old anime goof! That still isn't what I was getting at because the sky stuff is just wind powers and he has clearly developed into a caring, careful, and intelligent mind. I also am not trying to tear into his personality just because he had a chuckle once.
His powers encompass and provide total control over not only air, but whatever emotional spectrum and narrative/logical progression you associate with breath. He is also further splitting up his self-identity with all these clones and each of the conflicting parts of his brain. This means that he has multiple thoughts going in multiple directions. He said, at one point, that kat would have great difficulty getting every part of his mind to love her at once. This means that strong emotions to not bring his mind into focus. Any deviation from logic will lead to multiple different answers from different parts of him which he will then have to reconcile before acting. So, since they don't think about the same things, what happens if pony-self decides it wants golem grand-children and sneaks the method of production into a golem without telling anyone? What happens if the personification of his pitty goes dream-walking and teaches everyone everything he knows? What happens if he makes the golems just as good at manipulation as he and the dragon are and it leads to unintended consequences which the golems can ALSO talk their way out of? What happens if he gives a well-meaning speech in canterlot to a close friend and the friend repeats those words to other ponies, thus maintaining the power of the spoken word that
typhoon put into the words?
The problem is not that he is to perfect. The problem is not that he is to flawed. The problem is not a problem with the story. The problem is that his weakness does not allow for him to be defeated, it only allows him to be happily, earnestly, hopefully, and honestly wrong and unwise while other people follow his word against their better judgement. It's a tragedy.
He controls words therefore he controls concepts therefore he controls my concepts therefore he controls me. He is not wise therefore I am being controlled by something unwise. For anyone who listens to him speak, it is already to late. He is a good guy 100% and he is horrifying. He will break things in his hands and cry over them.
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He could.
He doesn't.
All he does is make sure he's saying the right concept he's got in his mind.
Yes, he's a bit manipulative, but then again anyone that uses strategy is - if they aren't, then someone is writing something wrong. He maneuvers to an advantageous position while making sure others are caught in a disadvantageous one.
Miss the subtler stuff...
Still, I thank you for being mature about it - I've had my share of trouble with rash, snap decisions; both sides, too.
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I recall, now, something about him hiding information from himself because he likes surprises. Since he is choosing not to use his power to directly control, I guess that means that he is, really, intentionally selecting a level of control which is as low as possible while still offering very probable success? I mean, he has the ability to see the cheat sheet. He can totally just look at their mental-state and then use words+breeze blessing to score a mental critical hit every time. See, he isn't controlling you with magic that way, but he is sending you regular English(equish?) speech selected using magic, which is effectively similar. Or, lets just say that he isn't doing that, either, and that he actually holds a normal mental model of people in his head the old fashioned way like a regular human. Lets say that the breeze isn't helping at all. At that point, there are only two options left. He is either right, objectively, about everything and he can prove it to you, or he is able to convince you he is right anyway.
The problem, at this point, is that the direction I was suggesting you take your story in is not in line with the true hero you wish your story to focus on. So, since continuing to let him develop into discord+cithlulu+casper the friendly ghost seems to be an out for you, you can always integrate the concept another way. Simple fact is, I don't trust your character. If he has the ability to play with minds with perfect precision, no open and reasonable mind can resist him. Everything I have said can be reduced to "no one man should have all that power." While I would be right in most cases, it seems you don't want to write a man, you want to write a super man. So, since I don't seem to feel as through distrust has been covered as a topic, a level-head character is in order. The don't even have to dislike typhon. I would recommend that they like him quite a bit. See, everyone else who seems to be against him always seems to be against him for emotional reasons. They mostly end up against him because of some unreasonable dislike for something which happened in the past. They are all quantifiably wrong on some level. How about someone who likes him, or maybe likes one of his clones or maybe shairs dreams with one of the fragments of his mind. Oo, I like that one. It can show typhon at his absolute moral limitation. The part of his mind named pity(though he wouldn't tell you that) could watch sadly as a creature refuses his help and resists his advances. The pony in question could have any number of mental or social abnormalities and could think of typhon as a voice in his head. No, wait, none of that provides a level-head character like what I wanted. All of that all falls back into the category of someone being strictly wrong about typhoon... it's still the kind of thing that fits in the story though.
I think it's about time to reach my conclusion.
If you are going to say that typhon is not a threat to the sense of self of those around him, there has to be a case where he wants to change someone's mind for what he sees as their own good and he abstains to keep his morals in tact because he can't do it without changing them directly. If this is not a conflict which can occur because he is capable of controling literally anyone with words only...there is then no effective difference between using magic powers to convince and not using magic powers to convince. It can't be simple or easy or a basic calculation for him either, or else it isn't really a valid display of his force of character and will. Disregarding all that other bs, do you at least agree with this paragraph?
Not sure if that counts as blaming yourself or not... Well, at least you opened the reply by calling me wrong. It probably evens out well enough.
I would like to refer to a blog post of yours where you say that there are three kinds of ways to get a point across.
You can describe objects and let readers logically investigate their implications, which would leave them with the feeling of observing after the fact. It affords the reader an intelligent puzzle, but it also takes work for the reader and leaves them feeling separated emotionally. It is relatively hard to empathize with a person based on the condition of a room.
You can describe actions and words, thus leading to a reading experience which is a detailed ride through the actual motions. This leads to a greater personal investment in each moment and can lead to a smoother, simpler ride and also and a more in-person feel.
You said you write starting with the emotion you wish to convey, and then expand from there. Since people are the most complicated and hidden part of any situation, they offer a great amount of mystery which you trade for extream clarity where you think it matters, if not in the actual situation's reasoning.
I start at a concept. Generally, I get an emotional reaction of mine which I want to share and I try to figure out what concept is attached to all the associations I am experiencing. I describe each group of information I feel is relevant and then I state my conclusion and how I got it. the problem with this is that it is nearly devoid of anything other then abstract, emotionless, detail. It is formal and it is clear in it's presentation of information, but it doesn't suggest very strongly how you should be reacting to the information, which is a cue many people use to piece the information together. They don't get to look at each sentence and ask themselves "how does this sentence contribute to the angry feeling he is expressing? Worse yet, I can end up sending perpetual false signals. So, while I provide all necessary information, I don't properly guide the reader or listener through constructing all of that information into an actual point. Like, I take the room-describing method, but the room is instead a noob-ish concept-space people have to trip over.
So, like, know that speaking to me is just a generally stressful experience. If you were getting ready to snap at someone, I'm kind of your man. I'm also rather interested in figuring out how people work and complex problems, to the point where I will probably remember this bs fondly.
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Actually, it was nice to have the discussion - maybe not the opening to it, but the rest? You've been much better than some others that have tried to 'argue' their 'points'. Seriously, I've been there, and I've mellowed down considerably since my teens - as well as started picking up some cues that seem to be obvious to everyone else save me, while keeping my... non-standard way of thought to see something obvious to me, but not-so evident to a few others.
However, you're still missing the subtler things, like the subtext. Anyways, the crossover with DJ's other story has some of what you've spoken of: Ben and his Twilight are... thick-headed. Typhon uses verbal prods to 'see' where they stand, although it (as in, his words/argument, not through use of his powers) makes them upset at him (he wanted to see how honest were they, with the added effect that angry people are more easily kept honest). He is, as (hopefully) most comic book (and fanfic and miscellaneous) fans are, aware of the line between helping someone and 'helping' someone 'for their own good'. Am I not making enough references to Eastern religions enough to make it obvious that he's fine if you distrust - or loathe - him so long as you don't go to be outright evil?
Seriously, Charles Xavier, anyone?
...
I rest my case.
I think you focused a little too hard on the possibility of control, and not in the... well, everything else. Like, in some cases, for the available information, the choice taken was the most logical; it was simply that some opportunities were passed by. Hindsight is 20/20, and foreknowledge makes it more obvious...
Those that keep spouting 'for the greater good' can, sometimes, if they aren't careful, end up choking with 'the greater good' stuck in their throats with a hero's sword impaling them through the gut.
Or the heart.
Genre savvy, boys and girls.
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Cue two separate training montages and three episodes of powering up, with at least five transformations.
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Gravity 3, but 2 isn't out yet, so...
You really did, didn't you.
*Continues reading*
Yes, yes you did. I am proud of you.
Best description of Pinkamena Diana Pie ever!